Inheritance
by Jedi Princess Clarrisani
Summary: At the party following the Russian Final, an unexpected and unwelcome visitor arrives... [Vignette Death Fic]


****

Inheritance

Warning: This vignette was very hard for me to go over and edit due to its confronting and tragic content, so I had better warn you that some of you may not be able to take the depressing and shocking nature. Others will probably wonder what the hell I was on about, but it is only fair that I warn you before it begins.

****

Author Note: As already stated, this fic was hard to edit and I wrote it during a time when all my thoughts and focus were dark. It did not end as planned, and I still shudder from it.

****

Note to Angst fans: You're going to love me.

****

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story, nor do I own Beyblade.

* * *

"Did you hear something?"

Bryan fought to keep from rolling his eyes at his teammates jumpiness. "No Ian, I did not hear anything. I did not hear anything earlier, either."

Ian glared at him, shifting where he stood. "You don't need to talk to me like I'm stupid, cause I'm not."

Bryan didn't bother answering, looking up and watching Tala as the Demolition Boy captain stood with Tyson, who was beaming from ear to ear as Mr Dickenson spoke. It was the night after the Finals, the Demolition Boys going down 2 to 1, Bryan himself having lost to the neko-jin Ray who sat off to the side with the members of his former team.

Bryan let his gaze rake over the gathered, spotting Spencer as he spoke with Steve and Eddy of the All Starz, their captain Michael pretending not to listen from where he stood not far away. Kai was with his grandfather, the two seemingly in the midst of a heated argument no doubt over the Black Dranzer issue. Boris had vanished immediately after the Tournament, but Bryan didn't give a shit about that.

Feeling a tug on his vest, Bryan looked down, Ian frowning. "When are we going?"

"Not yet, so shut your trap." Bryan looked back up, stiffening. "Wait… did you hear something?"

"That's what I've been saying all night!" Ian shifted uneasily, looking over his shoulder. "It almost sounded like…"

"Like a gun being loaded." Bryan finished, lavender eyes narrowing. "Or at least checked to make sure it was loaded."

"Bryan, I don't like this…"

Bryan's jaw tightened as he looked back toward the doorway, frowning as he saw nothing. He growled, turning back around. "Let's grab Tal and Spence and get the hell out of here. Something's not right."

"Yeah."

They followed the wall toward where Spencer stood, the older looking up and smiling before faltering, noting the look in their eye. He took half a step toward them, mouth opening before his eyes widened.

"IAN!"

Ian swung around, letting out a sharp cry as he flung himself backward, closing his eyes and waiting for the impact. When none came he looked up to find the crowbar inches from his face, Bryan's fingers closed around it having haltered its path.

The masked man snarled, something which Bryan was all too happy to return as everyone's attention fell onto them. With a sharp movement Bryan's fist came up, connecting with the man's face and sending him sprawling backwards and sliding across the polished floorboards. Ian was on his feet in an instant, set for the next attack, but when it came, it wasn't directed at him.

She flew from the shadows, Bryan twisting out of the path of her attack and ducking as she swung out a blow. Bryan stepped back, swinging around and sending a closed fist into the face of the man who tried to come up behind him, before the teen sent the female flying backwards with a well placed kick to the stomach.

He didn't spin around in time to block the blow that caught him across the shoulder blades, the first man having climbed to his feet and retrieved the crowbar, Bryan dropping hard to the ground. He went to stand but the sound of a gun being cocked stopped him, the small round pressure on the back of his head telling him that it might be a better idea to stay put.

Tala's eyes widened as the woman dug her heeled boot into his teammates back, pressing the rifle into his lavender hair with professional steadiness. Tala took half a step forward, only to stop dead as he felt the cold tip press under his chin.

"I suggest you stay put," the man hissed in his ear. "One step and I blow your head off. However, try any fancy defensive move to get rid of _this_ gun," he pressed it harder under Tala's chin to emphasis his point further, "and I'll shoot you with _this_ gun."

Tala felt his mouth dry as he felt the pressure into his ribs. He shot an apologetic look toward Bryan, who had spotted what was happening and returned the glance.

Voltaire took in what was happening, face starting to darken as he rested a protective hand on Kai's shoulder, the teen barely noticing as he trembled in rage. Voltaire snarled, dark eyes narrowing. "What is the meaning of this!"

"Why there _is_ no meaning, Lord Hiwatari."

They looked up as the man entered the room, sharp pale green eyes taking in everything before they settled on Voltaire, moron hair cut short but fringe falling into his eyes. Kai frowned, stepping toward his grandfather.

"Who's this prick?"

"Yoakim," Voltaire answered so only Kai could hear. "He's the man who was in charge of Biovolt research before I handed the reigns to Boris. He was making no progress and embezzling money, so I had your father remove him."

The man, Yoakim, let his gaze sweep around the room, eyes finally falling once more upon Voltaire as he smiled sadistically. "My my, what a pleasant party. Such a shame you lost, Lord Hiwatari. Oh, and I heard about Taro. What a pity, losing a son that way. Ah, and what have we here." Yoakim took a step forward, eyes fixated on Kai. "Could this be Taro's little son? Certainly inherited his father's physique, let alone his unique tonnage to the hair. But he has Lera's eyes and colouring, doesn't he? The complete inverse of his cousin, I see."

Yoakim turned, chuckling. "Yes Tala, you look so very much like your father, but radiate the beauty of your mother."

Tala's clear ice blue eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. Several in the room gasped as they spotted Tala's predicament, a couple murmuring at this new development. While the attention was drawn aside, Kai leant toward his grandfather.

"Despite my hatred of Boris, at least _he_ knows when to keep his trap shut. This guy needs someone to close the gate before it falls off its hinges."

Voltaire smiled faintly.

"Did I hear someone say 'Boris'?" Yoakim turned, twisted smile widening. "He certainly did a lot when he took over my position, but in the end it proved futile, leaving you to reap in your failure. But do not worry, Lord Voltaire, for I have already taken care of my backstabbing former assistant."

Voltaire set his jaw, seeing Kai straighten out of the corner of his eye. "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing." Yoakim turned, shrugging. "He's just a little dead, that's all."

On the floor, Bryan swore, Yoakim turning.

"Problem?"

Bryan narrowed his eyes. "_I _was going to be the one that killed that friggin' son-of-a-bitch."

"First in, best dressed." Yoakim turned back to Voltaire. "It's like this, old friend. I have a project I am working on and I need money."

"Well you're not getting any of mine," Voltaire hissed.

"Wrong, I _will_ be getting some of yours." Yoakim shrugged, grinning. "You see, as such a loyal and trusted friend, I have all the right paperwork to claim your inheritance once you pass on, especially with your son dead. I've already taken care of Balkov, so that's one less competitor to worry about."

Voltaire laughed. "I can assure you, _I_ will not be dying anytime soon."

"Actually Lord Hiwatari, that's where you're wrong."

Quicker than the eye Yoakim spun, a gunshot filling the air and causing several to scream. Kai let out a cry as he caught his grandfathers falling form, crimson eyes wide as he spotted the wound between the old mans unseeing eyes. Tyson let out a whimper, eyes searching the room and finding his own grandfather, knowing how he would feel if that ever happened to him.

Bryan swore softly as Tala gaped in disbelief, Kai reaching up to gently close the man's eyes, his own squeezed closed to the tears. For a moment he was unmoving, body tense before he set the body down, springing to his feet as his eyes flashed, burning for revenge but coming to a halt as Yoakim raised a hand.

"You can't be that eager to lose _another_ family member, can you young Kai?"

Kai's eyes shot to the side, meeting Tala's gaze as the younger came out of his trance, the exchange speaking louder than words ever could. Yoakim laughed, moving around the room before he tapped his fingertips together.

"Now that Voltaire is out of the way, that leaves the matter of the will. It would seem he changed it after my removal, dividing the money between three. You, of course, are on it young Kai. You _are_ his grandson after all. The second heir comes as no surprise either, considering how close Voltaire was to Maxim Ivanov. Interesting that Balkov was never an option, but the third heir… now _there_ is something unusual."

Yoakim crossed his arms, wandering pointlessly through the crowd that parted as he passed them, not wanting to become the next target. "I always saw Voltaire to be cold and heartless, so the very idea that he wanted to adopt an orphan surprises me. Balkov took such great care in covering up the murder of the parents I'm sure Voltaire had no idea what had actually occurred. Pity Voltaire never _did_ get to adopt the boy, as they are as cruel and heartless as one another."

He stopped, looking down with a carefully cultured eyebrow raised. "Right Bryan?"

Bryan hissed through his teach. "I don't know what the hell you're on about."

"I'm sure you don't, but come on, you must have wondered why Voltaire was always so considerate of you, inviting you over to his mansion while the other boys stayed at the Abbey? Did it never occur to you that perhaps Voltaire saw you as a son?"

Bryan didn't answer, Kai's eyes narrowing as the reality of it sunk in. Bryan, his childhood best friend, could have been his… his _uncle_?

"Listed as number three on the will, no less. Voltaire really cared about you." Yoakim shrugged. "I've heard you have a rather intelligent mind. Pity really, but I must do what I must. Time to meet your parents."

The gun raised, several people shrieking with the shot. Yoakim's eyes narrowed as he growled, grip tightening on his weapon. "My my, aren't _we_ a fast one."

Bryan smirked from where he had rolled free from under the woman's weapon and grip, escaping the bullet that would have caught him dead between the eyes just as it had Voltaire.

Yoakim waved it off casually. "I can handle that."

Hearing a movement, Bryan swung around, pain blazing through him before he plunged into darkness, Tala screaming his name as he hit the ground, blood already pooling from his wound to the chest. The man who had shot him lowered his gun, saluting his boss before returning to his post.

"Two down, two to go." Yoakim smiled, slowly turning and moving across the room, Tala's tear-filled eyes tearing from his teammates body. "Oh my poor boy, did you have feelings for him? You've known him your entire life, haven't you? He was the shoulder you always cried on, wasn't he? No more shoulder. All gone."

Tala set his jaw, eyes becoming icy daggers. "You sick bastard."

"I am quite healthy, thank you. And it was _Boris_ who was the bastard, quite literally as your teammate over there will tell you… oh that's right, little Bryan is dead too, isn't he. Such a shame."

Tala growled. "Leave us alone."

"My, you're a cold one." Yoakim grinned, reaching out to brush the hair from Tala's face. "I think you were in love with him. I do believe you very greatly desired to be intimate with Kuznetsov over there, but it's a little late now, don't you think? You held off telling him just a little too long."

Tala simply glared.

Yoakim chuckled. "Don't you worry. You'll have your chance to tell him, but not in this world, I can assure you." He raised a hand in a wave. "Night night."

As Yoakim turned his back, the assassin pulled the trigger, Kai screaming in rage as Tala's body crumpled to the floor.

"You're mad at me, aren't you."

Kai glared at him, crimson eyes burning as he snarled, face twisted in mixed grief and rage. "You will pay for what you've done-"

"And how do you intend to do that, hm young Kai?" Yoakim gestured around him. "So many people, so many so called friends, and no one has even _tried_ to help you. Why? Because they're all terrified of getting hurt, that's why. They're all scared of getting killed. They chose to stay out of it, to be nothing more than spectators, so stunned that they cannot move an inch." He stepped closer. "And you? Well you are unarmed, and I am not. And I intend it to remain that way.

"Congratulations on your teams victory, Kai. It's the last victory you'll ever have." He raised the gun, Kai taking a step back and twisting to the side. "Running won't help."

"Who says I'm running?"

Kai grabbed up a knife from the table, flinging himself at Yoakim and slashing downwards. Before he reached his target there came a shot, Kai staggering as the knife fell from his grip, clutching his arm.

Yoakim grinned. "I told them to leave you for me." He set the gun between Kai's eyes and pulled the trigger before he could move, Kai's form flying backward to crumple beside his grandfather, the last of the Hiwatari's having taken his final breath.

Yoakim turned, taking in the sounds of the sobbing as he stepped toward the doorway, the sadistic smile still on his face. Reaching the exit, he paused, glancing at one of his minions. "Kill them. Kill them all."

As he stepped out into the darkness, the sounds of the screams and gunfire echoed into the unforgiving night.

* * *

See. Told you it was dark. *Shudder*


End file.
